


And The Band Marched On

by jolimelon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, High School, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, M/M, Modern Era, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolimelon/pseuds/jolimelon
Summary: Confessions can be strange and confusing, especially when they're coming from the person you'd least expect.Hunk, the tuba player in the school's marching band, is left stunned when Keith, the quaterback of the football team, suddenly confesses his feelings to him.But how does Hunk feel in return?





	1. Blackbird

“I like you.” 

They were three little words that could mean so much. 

I like you could be said in many ways, to many different people, and each time it could mean many different things. 

So when Hunk first heard these three words- from the quarterback of Altea High School football team no less- he had no reason to think that they meant anything special. 

At least not at first. 

Hunk had known Keith for some time. Having grown up in the same town, and having gone to the same schools their entire life’s, the two had many encounters. But Hunk could never be sure whether Keith had regarded him as a friend or an acquaintance, much less someone that he ‘liked.’ 

And so, Hunk’s first response was simply this: 

“Thanks, Keith. I like you, too.” 

He knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing.

Keith teetered on the spot, subtly shifting his weight from foot to foot, his expression a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. 

“No, I mean-“ his voice was quiet, practically all but a whisper. “I really like you.” 

Hunk’s voice became lost in his throat, all thoughts vacating his mind in a blind panic. 

Were there signs leading up to this? 

If he had paid close attention would he have realized sooner? 

And, the most perplexing of all questions: How did he feel about Keith? 

He was fond of him surely, but he hadn’t even considered Keith as someone that he could like. 

Of course it was nothing personal- he just never would have put himself through the trouble of liking someone that he didn’t know where he had stood with. 

Hunk swallowed back, his palms sweating against the base of his tuba, causing his grip to become weak against it. 

Altea High’s football team had just wrapped up their afternoon practice while the marching band had their first outdoor rehearsal. 

When Keith had seen an opportunity to approach Hunk while nobody was paying attention, he had taken it to his advantage. 

Only, Hunk wished he hadn’t. 

“Do you get what I mean by that?” Keith asked, a hint of red beginning to bloom on his cheeks, his embarrassment only growing as Hunk remained silent.

“Y-Yeah,” Hunk mumbled, his voice cracking awkwardly. He coughed to clear his throat, and continued, “I do... I get what you mean, yeah.” 

A moment of silence followed. 

And then another. 

When Keith couldn’t handle shifting from one foot to another any longer, he stood still, and put on his bravest voice as he spoke. 

“I just thought I’d let you know, you don’t have to say anything back. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” 

He had turned on his heels by then, but Hunk had grabbed a hold of his sleeve and held him back before he could hurry off. 

“Hey, wait, sorry, I’m just caught off guard and all.” Hunk replied, “And I really appreciate it, y’know? But I just... I don’t kno-“ 

“It’s fine.” Keith cut in, likely not wanting to hear the rest of his sentence. Truthfully, Hunk didn’t even know where it was going, if anywhere at all. “I just wanted to let you know, that’s all.” 

Keith shook from his grasp, and just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone was more. 

Hunk had been stunned by the entire ordeal, finding it hard to believe that it was any more than a strange dream even just moments after it had occurred. 

He wanted to talk to somebody -anybody- about it but he didn’t. 

The truth was that he didn’t know where Keith stood regarding whether he was still in the closet or not. Keith admitting to having a crush on Hunk had been surprising in more ways than one, since he hadn’t even known that the boy was gay to begin with. 

So, Hunk did the next best thing he could think of- he subtly asked for advice in the vaguest of terms. 

Even so, he had to remain cautious in his endeavours. His best friend, Lance, was also a member of the football team, so Hunk had to ensure that he didn’t elude to the fact that Keith was the boy crushing on him. 

“What would you do if someone really random said they had a crush on you? Like someone you never expected?” 

That was how Hunk had phrased it. 

It was in the middle of playing video games with Lance that he decided to pose the question. It seemed to be the least suspicious time, given how strange their regular conversations could get. 

“I dunno, like, is this person hot or not?” Lance asked in return. 

Keith’s face flashed through Hunk’s mind. He was good looking in the conventional sense, and his air of mystery added some levels of attraction as well. 

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk answered non-chalantly. “They’re hot.” 

“I’d go for it then, I mean they did the hard part by breaking the ice and what’s there to lose by giving it a shot?” 

“You’d really just go for it? Even if you barely know the person?” 

Lance shrugged his shoulders, his eyes solely focused on the television screen with his tongue half hung out of his mouth in concentration. 

“I mean, how else would I get to know them? Maybe I’d end up liking them back along the way.” 

“Right but like,” Hunk hesitated to continue, knowing his unusual situation may be too difficult to define in hypothetical terms. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to at least befriend them first?” 

“Eh, yeah, I guess- but dating doesn’t always have to be that serious, y’know? Sometimes it can just be for fun.” 

Hunk contemplated the words for a few silent moments. 

Maybe there was some youthful wisdom tied into Lance’s advice, but ultimately, Hunk didn’t feel as if it fit his current situation enough to satisfy him. 

Just the same as before, he was once again on his own.

* * *

The next day brought about a new unusual situation. 

Marching band practice had been cancelled for the afternoon, but Lance had already offered to drive Hunk home after he was done with football. 

That gave him around two hours of time to waste. 

Hunk didn’t particularly fancy the idea of watching the football team play for that long, so he figured that he’d find something to do indoors. 

Lance had different plans for him, though. 

“You can sit in the bleachers with Keith, he’s probably lonely.” Lance had stated so casually that Hunk had nearly missed what he had said. 

“Keith? Why would I-“ Hunk paused, “Wait, what? Why are you guys practicing without him?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Lance asked, an eyebrow raised. “He’s off the team.” 

“What?!” Hunk caught the raise in his voice before he got too loud, but completely hiding his shock wasn’t possible. “Why?” 

With his hand, Lance made a circular motion around his opposite arm, “He snapped his wrist, and by the time it heals, the season will be over.” 

“Oh… ouch. Wow… Is he okay?” 

Lance shrugged his shoulders, “I’m guessing he’s pretty bummed about it.” He replied, adjusting the collar of his uniform. “So, yeah, I figured you could boost his spirit or something while you’re waiting for us to finish practice.”

Awkward confession aside - it was now the last thing on his mind- Hunk hated, more than anything, seeing other people feeling upset. Lance’s suggestion wasn’t one that he could easily refuse. 

“Yeah, I could do that,” Hunk agreed with a firm nod. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll keep him entertained for two hours.” 

“Knew I could count on you, m’man,” Lance said, patting his hands firmly on Hunk’s shoulders. “And by the way, it’s two _and a half_ hours, so have fun!” 

With that, Lance had hurried off to join his teammates on the playing field, running far too fast to hear the grumbling coming from the friend that he had left behind.

 _Two and a half hours,_ Hunk thought to himself, the shrill of coach Shirogane’s whistle blowing in the distance, _Just two and a half hours._

Just as Lance had stated, Keith was sitting by his lonesome in the center of the bleachers, his gaze vacantly fixated on the field in front of him. 

Hunk approached slowly at first, attempting to gauge if Keith were in the mood for company or not. 

His left hand was bandaged in a thick, white cast, extending from his palm to the middle of his forearm, with his thumb sticking stiffly out of a cut out hole. There were signatures all over the cast, likely from his former teammates. 

It was the first time Hunk had seen Keith in casual wear that was neither his gym clothes nor his football jersey. 

Rather, he was wearing a simple white shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and an opened button-up flannel on top. 

The most difficult part, without a shred of doubt, was deciphering Keith’s aura. 

His expression was often difficult to read, and his body language was subtle at best. 

His eyes were glossed over, with hints of pink lurking in the corners. The shadows beneath them hinted at stress or a lack of sleep- both seeming like reasonable explanations. 

“Hey,” Hunk found himself speaking up before he had time to think of a game plan. “Mind if I sit?” 

Keith’s attention became perked, and his eyebrows raised when he realized who had just spoken to him. 

However, he quickly eased back into his previously forlorn state. 

“Go ahead,” Keith had answered. 

Hunk obliged once he had been given permission to do so. He left around a foot of space between the two of them, his bag perched neatly between his legs. 

There was no conversation at first. Only a long, uncomfortable silence and the occasional whistle from coach Shirogane as he directed the boys in practice. 

The weather had been dreadfully humid in recent times, but a cool wind was just beginning to pick up, and it was more than welcome. 

“So, how did you break it?” Hunk eventually asked in an attempt to break the silence. 

“Practice yesterday,” Keith answered bluntly, “I landed on it the wrong way.”

Hunk couldn’t tell whether Keith was annoyed by the attempt at conversation, or if he was simply tired of answering these same questions over and over again. 

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“Well that’s good, at least.” 

Keith nodded his head, “Yeah.” 

Another silence followed for a moment. Two moments. Three moments. 

Hunk persisted regardless, not wanting the mood to become uncomfortable. 

“How long is it gonna take to heal?” Hunk asked.

“Six to eight weeks, I guess. Probably more like eight since it wasn’t a clean break.”

Hunk swallowed back in pitiful silence.

“So, yeah, I’m off the team for the rest of the season.”

“Oh...” Hunk’s voice was low, soft, and full of sympathy. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Keith had automatically answered, as if he’d been practicing all day. “I just wish I didn’t have to sit here and watch.” 

Hunk’s gaze followed Keith’s onto the football field until they landed on Coach Shirogane. 

“I’m guessing your brother is your ride home, huh?”

Keith’s shoulders slumped as he sighed. “Yup.”

Another silence befell them, only this time it lasted no more than a moment.

“It’s awkward, isn’t it?” Keith asked.

Hunk instantly felt his body tense and lock up. 

He had pushed thoughts of the confession deep into the back of his mind, easily having forgotten it even happened in the first place. 

Despite everything, Hunk still had no idea what to say about it. If possible, he wanted to avoid discussing it at all, or, at least to avoid it until he had even the slightest idea of what to think about it. But, he didn’t. Not yet.

But he had to answer with something. Anything. He didn’t want to make Keith feel any more uncomfortable then he already was.

“Wh-What? No, no, I don’t think so!” 

Keith hummed in quiet thought, “I guess it’s just awkward for me then.”

“Uhm…” Hunk choked on his words during his desperate search to figure out what to say next. 

The truth was that Hunk had never been in a crush-related predicament before. Nobody had ever confessed to him, or even eluded to the fact that they might have an inkling of a crush on him. It had just never happened. 

What was he supposed to say, or do? What was the protocol? He didn’t know- and he had nobody to turn to for help.

“It’s just… I’m sitting here like dead weight,” Keith continued to speak. His gaze remained forward. Downhearted. “Unable to do anything to help the team out.”

 _Oh,_ Hunk thought.

“So just sitting here uselessly… It feels awkward to me.”

_Oooohhhhhh._

Suddenly, Hunk felt grateful to the words that had become lost in his throat. Keith hadn’t been referring to the confession at all, but rather, he had been talking about his own personal predicament.

“You’re not useless to them,” Hunk now felt calmer as he spoke, and as a result, the words came to him easier. “Support is just as important to the team, too. That’s the whole job of the marching band, and the cheerleaders, and even everyone who sits and watches the games from the bleachers.” 

Keith’s focus had moved from the field, becoming solely fixated on Hunk as he listened to him speak. 

“I can’t really understand what you’re going through right now, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be but it’s not like there’s nothing left for you to do now, y’know?” 

Keith blinked a few times, his breathing slow and irregular. He avoided direct eye contact with Hunk, but he faintly smiled at the softness of his words. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Keith eventually replied. “Thanks, Hunk.”

Hunk smiled back. “No problem.” 

Again, silence returned, only now it wasn’t so awkward. 

Keith’s attention returned to the field, his smile slowly but surely fading once more. 

A few words couldn’t save the day, Hunk knew too well, so he would have to step things up.

Two and a half hours was a long time, after all, and who wanted to sit in saddened silence for that long? 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Hunk asked, immediately capturing the other boys attention. “And go somewhere a little more interesting?” 

“Like where?” Keith asked. 

Hunk shrugged his shoulders, “We could stay within the school, maybe go to the music classroom or something. It’s a nice, quiet place.” 

Keith blinked a few times, and Hunk worried that his words had come across as more suggestive than he had intended. 

“I mean like,” Hunk laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “You probably don’t want to sit here and just watch them play, and-“ 

“I want to go,” Keith cut in, standing from his spot. “I definitely don’t want to sit around here the whole time.” 

Hunk had to stifle a laugh at Keith’s eagerness. It was as if he’d been waiting for an excuse - _any_ excuse- to jump up and leave. 

Hunk couldn’t blame him. 

After leaving the field, Hunk and Keith had wordlessly walked their way indoors. The school was nearly vacant, save for the occasional member of staff that walked passed. Nobody batted an eye at them, however. 

The music room was located on the first floor, not far from the main entrance, so they arrived within only moments. 

It was one of the largest rooms of the school despite the small budget it received. A grand piano was set in the corner, and in front of each chair was a black sheet music stand. 

The back of the room is where the instruments were stored in their cases, separated by type and size. The largest and heaviest of the instruments were on the bottom, so as to avoid strain while putting them away. 

Hunk’s instrument was the tuba, placed in the bottom compartments. 

He grabbed the case and set it on an empty seat. He opened the buckles of the case, propped it open, and removed the tuba from inside.

In the meantime, Keith had found a spot of his own to sit in, his attention turned intently toward Hunk. 

Hunk was about to hold the tuba into position when he stopped himself and set it back down.

“Wait, wait I have an idea!” Hunk suddenly proclaimed, running to the back of the room again, Keith’s eyes following him all the while. 

“What?” Keith asked. “What is it?” 

But Hunk didn’t answer. He continued to rummage through the back until he finally found what he was looking for. 

He turned his back to Keith, secretively forming something together out of his line of sight, but Keith was eager to know more about what was going on. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, to which Hunk snickered teasingly. 

“You’ll see!” 

After a moment, he stood, fiddled around with the secret object for another second and then, finally, he turned around. 

In one hand, he held a long stand that went to about chest-height. Hanging from the top of the stand was a dangling silver triangle. 

Hunk brought the instrument to Keith and placed it on the floor just beside his chair. Then, he handed him a small silver rod. 

Keith stared at it quietly, blinking in silent contemplation. 

“I know everyone jokes that the triangle is some useless instrument, but I love it. It adds a whole ‘nother sound to music, and it’s fun ‘cause anyone can play it. You just need to feel the music and hit it when it feels right.”

That was Hunk’s explanation.

Keith shifted his gaze between the silver rod and Hunk several times. 

“I’m not a very musical person but I guess this is something that even I can play.” Keith replied. 

“That’s the spirit!” Hunk exclaimed, raising his voice with enthusiasm. “I’ll play something I’ve been working on, and when it feels right, just ding the triangle. Trust me, it’ll sound good.” 

Keith smiled faintly and nodded his head. His posture had since straightened out and he sat upright in his chair, his free arm held high and at-the-ready for his musical cues. 

With his tuba properly positioned, Hunk took a few deep breaths before bringing the instrument to his mouth. He placed his hands on the starting keys, and then, he began to play. 

After only a few notes into the song, Keith eyebrows perked up, and his smile grew wider. 

“I know this song,” Keith said, quietly so as to not disrupt the flow. 

Hunk played on undisrupted but he smiled beneath the mouth piece. 

And then, most unexpectedly of all, Keith quietly began to sing along. 

“ _Blackbird singing in the dead of night…_ ”

He dinged the triangle. 

“ _Take these sunken eyes and learn to see..._ ”

Again, he struck the triangle. His technique was very hesitant, and soft, but it complimented the slow song well.

“ _All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free._ ”

Keith wasn’t particularly a great singer, but there was something endearing about his voice. It certainly didn’t put Beyoncé’s career at risk, but somehow, Hunk liked it just as much. 

“ _Blackbird fly, blackbird fly. Into the light of the dark, black night…_ ”

His voice was deep, and cracked with a slight waver while he sang the notes intended for a higher voice. In a sense, it was sweetly child-like.

The song continued on, and Keith continued to sing, hitting the triangle when he deemed necessary. Hunk played on with no stress or uncertainties, and he felt the same tranquil calmness as he would have on his own. 

As the song came to an end, Hunk found himself wishing it could be just a little bit longer, so that the fun didn’t have to end just yet. 

Keith lowered the triangle rod back into his lap where his casted arm had remained in the meantime. 

“You’re good at playing.” Keith commented, to which Hunk let out a short laugh. 

“You too,” Hunk replied, “The triangle and the singing were both really good.”

“God, no. I’m a terrible singer,” Keith laughed, “But it was nice to sing along with you.”

Hunk placed his tuba back into its case, and then took a seat in the empty seat beside Keith. 

Without giving it much thought, he began to speak.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” 

Keith slowly shook his head. “What is it?” 

“Remember how… uh, y’know, you said that….” Hunk’s voice began to drift off, but he caught it and spoke up once again, “You said that you liked me?” 

Keith then began to slowly nod his head. 

“I guess I’ve been thinking about it, and, uh, did you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied, “I meant it.” 

“It wasn’t like… some football team prank or something?” 

“No, it wasn’t a prank,” Keith answered, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Oh,” Hunk replied. “I guess I just don’t get why.” 

“Why I like you?” 

Hunk nodded his head. 

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Keith replied, “I didn’t mean to put pressure on you by confessing. I just thought I should let you know. It’s not like I’m expecting something to come from it.” 

Hunk nervously scratched the back of his head, trying to mentally make sense of things. 

“I know I have some walls up,” Keith said. An understatement if there ever was one. “But some of the guys on the team said I should just tell you, and I didn’t think it was such a bad idea.” 

“N-No, yeah, it’s good to know, and I’m glad you told me. I guess I just never imagined it happening so it really caught me by surprise.” 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, no! That’s not what I’m-“ Hunk cut himself off, his tongue tripping over the words as they spilled out of his mouth. “I appreciate it, and you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I think it’s sweet and- Wait, did you say the other guys on the team..? So they all know?” 

“Yeah, they know, but I didn’t tell them. They just guessed it.” 

Hunk blinked quietly, his train of thought now pulled to a complete stop. “Huh…” 

Immediately, Hunk pictured Lance in his mind. 

Lance knew. He had known all along that Keith had liked him, and yet, he hadn’t said a thing about it. Not a single word of warning. 

Lance, the same Lance that couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, had somehow managed to hide away this major shocking fact from his own best friend. 

“You’re mad?” Keith had asked, and Hunk suddenly realized that his expression was far too telling of his thoughts. 

“What? No, sorry, I’m not, I just-“ 

Keith stood from his seat, his mood having soured quickly. “Just forget it happened, Hunk. I’ll try, too.” 

“Keith, wait-“

Hunk had wanted to call out louder as Keith left the classroom in a hurry, but he knew that nothing he said could improve anything. 

The conversation had gone dreadfully due to a mix of confusion and poor communication. Hunk could only blame himself for it. 

Despite how hard he tried to think about it, Hunk just couldn’t express his thoughts clearly, namely because he could fully understand them himself. 

It was all new to him. It was confusing, and frustrating.

But, if there was any sort of small consolation, he now knew that he wasn’t as cluelessly alone as he had thought he was.

* * *

“Oh yeah, I never told you?” Lance laughed, buckling his seatbelt as he shot a quick look at Hunk. 

Practice had since come and gone. Keith had left promptly with his older brother, coach Shirogane, as soon as practice came to an end. He didn’t spare glances to anyone else, and kept quietly to himself. 

Lance and Hunk sat in Lance’s car, the topic of Keith’s affection quickly being brought up.

“Yeah, no, you didn’t mention it _at all._ ”

“My bad, then.” Lance replied, he pulled out of the school parking lot and began to drive down the street. “I’m just surprised that he still likes you. I totally forgot he even did.” 

“Still?” Hunk raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by still?”

Lance snorted as he stifled yet another laugh. “Man, you really don’t know anything, I’m surprised. You’re supposed to be the smart one!” 

“What do you mean?! Just tell me!” 

“Well, first of all, we all thought it was pretty obvious that he had a huge crush on you. So while we were at that summer training camp this year, we more or less forced it out of him.” 

“You guys are awful,” Hunk grumbled. 

“It was so obvious, though! You’re like, literally the only one that didn’t know. We all figured you did though so we were like, ‘oh yeah, go tell him’ and whatever.” 

“Dude, I had no idea.” Hunk covered his face with his hands, letting out a long, defeated sigh. “He thinks I’m mad at him now ‘cause I have zero clue how I’m supposed to respond.” 

“Well, do you like him back?” Lance asked. 

There was a silence and then, again, Hunk grumbled in frustration. “I don’t even know! He’s always seemed so ‘off limits’, or whatever. Ya know? Like, the thought never even crossed my mind.” 

“Just think on it for awhile. You have the weekend now, at least. That’s two whole days to give it some thought,” Lance had shifted to a less teasing tone, and became more genuine as he offered his advice. “And then, on Monday, give him a solid answer. Nothing in between that might confuse him or lead him on.”

“You sound like a real Keith defense force right now, Lance,” Hunk teased, “Thought you didn’t like the guy.” 

“He ticks me off sometimes but we’re still friends,” Lance answered, “Besides, I’ve been in his place, and then led on, and it’s really not fun.” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to hurt him at all,” Hunk replied quietly. 

“So just think about it over the weekend. I know you have nothing better to do, anyway.” 

“Hey now,” Hunk mocked offense. “I mean… True, though.” 

Lance laughed loudly. “Exactly my point.”

* * *

The weekend had come and gone in a hurried pace. 

As per Lance’s (for once useful) advice, Hunk spent the weekend thinking about what he wanted to say to Keith, and where he wanted things between them to go. 

In a more technical approach to the predicament, Hunk weighed the pros and cons of each option. 

He took into account Keith’s certain feelings, his own uncertain feelings, and where their relationship currently stood. 

Putting aside the ending of their last interaction, Hunk thought that he and Keith stood at a nice place. They got along well, and they had had a lot of fun together in the music room. 

But unlike Lance had told him, Hunk still didn’t think he could give Keith a definite answer just yet, as much as he wished that he could. He still wanted to get to know him better, and he couldn’t do that by keeping his distance. 

And so, as Monday approached, Hunk had set a plan in motion that he felt fairly confident in. 

He first spotted Keith after second period. He was at his locker, struggling to hold his books and enter his lock combination at the same time using only his unbroken hand.

Hunk took a deep breath. 

_Now, or never. Do or die. Just go up to him and say what you want to say._

With that, Hunk was able to embody a temporary gust of overwhelming confidence. He powered through the crowd, and swooped Keith’s books out of his hand.

Wide eyed, Keith glanced up at Hunk in surprise, his shoulders tensed slightly. 

“Thought you could use _a hand,_ ” Hunk said. 

Keith vaguely smiled, but quickly looked back down at his lock, quickly entering his combination. He opened the door, took his books back, crammed them in the locker, and shut it just as quickly. 

“Hey, wait, before you go,” Hunk spoke up, sensing that Keith was going to run off if he allowed him to. “Can I ask you something?” 

Keith froze on the spot, and wordlessly nodded his head. 

Hunk coughed deeply from his throat so as to clear his voice before he asked:

“Do you, uh, do you want to go to the autumn formal dance with me?” 

Keith’s hand gripped tightly onto the strap of his bag, and he unconsciously held his breath without realizing it. He blinked a few times, clearly unsure of what to say next. 

“Like, as my date.” Hunk added for clarification, his own heart racing so quickly that it startled him. “I thought about it a lot and, if it’s okay with you, I want to get to know you better.” 

“Are you sure?” Keith asked, his voice quiet with disbelief. 

Hunk smiled and nodded his head, “Yeah, only if you want to.” 

“Yeah,” Keith replied, though his face remained just as serious as ever. “I want to.”


	2. I Can't Make You Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay of this chapter! I'm not happy with how it turned out but I don't want to keep you guys waiting any longer for an update! Please forgive me and thanks for sticking by for this long!!

"You asked him to the dance? So you like him after all, huh?"

Hunk stood at his locker, exchanging the books from his bag with the books he kept placed on the shelf until he needed them for class. The locker beside him had belonged to Lance since the ninth grade, when the two had been so eager to get neighbouring lockers that they had snuck out of their high school orientation early to run down the hallways until they found two vacant lockers side-by-side, and immediately called dibs on them.

Once Hunk had finished grabbing his books, he closed his locker, and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"I don't know," Hunk replied, "I told him it was to get to know him better."

"Oh," Lance mumbled, beginning to walk down the hall, Hunk only a few steps behind. He could sense a certain hostility in Lance's tone, and it made him uneasy.

"What?"

"I just think it's walking on pretty thin ice with the whole leading-him-on thing."

Hunk understood Lance's point, and he knew where he was coming from. Keith was his teammate and friend, and if there was even the slightest hint of drama between him and another one of his friends, it would put Lance into a very uncomfortable position as a result.

"But what if it turns out that I really do like him?" Hunk asked, keeping his voice quiet amidst the crowd in the hallway.

Lance shrugged his shoulders, "Guess you'll have to find out."

Okay, so there was no denying that Lance was definitely annoyed, but Hunk had no clue how to make things better. He thought his method of getting to know Keith better first was a swell idea. Why wouldn't it be? He was giving him a chance, and if things went well, then everybody could be happy. But, just as well, if things went poorly then it was bad news for everyone as well. _Ugh, okay. Maybe it's kind of flawed but still._

Just then, who should turn the corner but Keith who, despite not smiling, appeared to be in a rather chipper mood. It was something about the way in which he carried himself, his straightened out posture that wasn't too tense, and his soft expression that wasn't quite as gloomy as usual.

"Hey, Keith," Lance greeted first, glancing back at Hunk as he did so. Hunk didn't notice.

"Good morning," Hunk said to him.

"Hey," Keith replied.

"Are you guys sitting together today?" Lance asked, his gaze switching between the two.

As Keith nodded his head, Hunk replied, "Yeah, we are. Wanna join us?"

"Nah," Lance replied, "I've gotta find Pidge. Have fun, though!"

"Oh, okay," Hunk said, beginning to _really_ worry that he was mad at him, but as Lance flashed a quick peace sign and smile as he walked off, he felt his worries ease up, even if it just by a bit.

Once Lance was out of sight, having disappeared quietly into the crowded corners of the hallway, Keith turned his attention back to Hunk. He pulled a sharpie out of his pants pocket and held it up, along with his casted arm.

"Do you want to sign my cast?" Keith asked.

Hunk stared for a moment, blinking repeatedly as he glanced between Keith, his cast, and the sharpie. "You sure? My handwriting is pretty messy."

Nodding his head, Keith gave a quick shrug, "It can't be worse than the guys on the team."

Hunk thought to himself then that he'd never seen Keith so open before. Surely, he was close with his older brother, and the other boys on the football team, but since Hunk was often too absorbed in what the marching band was doing, he never had much time to pay attention to him. He'd always thought Keith was closed off, and didn't like other people. That he, for lack of better terms, may have even been a bit cold. It wasn't as if Hunk was the type to make such rash judgements of character, but that was the impression Keith gave off, anyway.

Taking the sharpie in his hand, Hunk popped off the cap and began to write on Keith's cast.

As his eyes scanned over the cast, he noticed the signatures of several of the football players (a.k.a the most popular boys in school), as well coach Shirogane's (who, without question, was very popular if not for his looks and charisma alone), and Hunk couldn't help but wonder why on earth Keith would put him at the same level as those other people.

**get well soon :) - Hunk G.**

"Thanks," Keith said, watching as Hunk finished writing and put the cap back onto the marker. He retrieved it from him, and slid it into his pants pocket once more.

"No problem. How's it feeling, anyway?" Hunk asked.

"It's okay," Keith replied, "Sometimes it's itchy."

"That has got to be annoying." Hunk commented.

"Yeah, it's pretty annoying," Keith replied.

By then, the two had begun to walk down the hallway, making their way through the crowd until they reached a more open area where they were able to walk slowly at their own leisure.

"So you usually sit with the guys on the team right?" Hunk asked. Keith nodded his head. "You can stay with them if you want to, don't let me keep you if that's the case."

"No, it's okay," Keith was quick to reply, "I want to hang out with you."

Again, Hunk briefly wondered to himself what made him so different from everybody else. The thought quickly evaded his mind as he glanced around, and made fleeting eye contact with a few members of the football team that stood off to the side of the hallway. They quickly looked away, beginning to whisper to themselves in hushed tones, sparing a quick glance every few seconds. Subtlety wasn't their strongest suit, to say the least.

He felt a burning in his face, and veered his eyes into the opposite direction, but, sure enough, he was only met with the gazes of more onlookers.

Just how many people were aware of Keith's feelings for Hunk, while he himself had remained completely clueless, was unclear, but as he felt several sets of eyes watching their every movement, Hunk began to realize that the number was likely much higher than he could ever imagine. It felt as if he was the last person on earth to clue in.

"Hunk, you don't have to feel bad for me. You can still back out. I'll get it."

Keith's comment had broken Hunk's train of though, quickly bringing his attention back to the boy beside him.

"Huh?"

"I'm not a kid, so I can handle it if you don't like me." Keith stated bluntly.

Hunk realized then that his silence often gave off a different impression than he intended it too. He could only imagine the boiling anxiety it caused Keith when he remained silent for long periods time, constantly wondering whether he would return his feelings or not. He felt bad for not being able to give him a solid answer, but at the very least, he could be honest with him.

"The thing is... I don't think I can honestly say that I don't. It's complicated." Hunk said, but by the blank expression on Keith's face, he knew that the other boy wasn't convinced. "I really do want to get to know you better, and to go to the dance with you."

Keith's face than eased up slightly, and he wore a vague smile. "Thanks. Me too."

The feelings of meddling eyes glued to his back continued to weigh on Hunk, and he knew that as long as he and Keith remained in the building, that wouldn’t change. He scanned the hallway once more with his eyes, confirming his suspicions that the two were still being closely observed by their peers.

“Do you maybe want to go outside? The weather is pretty nice today.” Hunk asked, not sure how much more whispering he could handle.

“Sure,” Keith agreed quickly and easily.

Leaving the school felt like an energizing breath of fresh air. There were hardly any students lingering outside at the time, so Hunk was able to ease up, the pressure of having an uninvited audience watching his every move quickly fading to the back of his mind.

The worst of the heatwave had seemed to pass, and a warm but pleasant wind took the place of the previously stifling humidity.

The tallest tree on the property was located at the back of the student parking lot, and it was visible from nearly every popular outdoor spot. It’s leafs were a vivacious mixture of green, yellow, and orange, though green remained to be the majority.

“Looks like some of the trees are changing colours already.” Hunk commented absent-mindedly.

Keith, just beginning to look at the scenery after Hunk’s comment, eyed the trees with a certain curiousity, his hands resting with ease in the comfort of his jacket pockets.

“It looks nice,” Keith agreed, then shifting his focus to Hunk.

Hunk smiled, breaking into a brief feeling of fluster as his eyes met with Keith’s. He felt the pressure of his nerves getting the best of him, and he couldn’t deny it.

_Don’t lead him on,_ he continually reminded himself. _Pretend you don’t know that he likes you and see how things go. Be natural._

“Do you like autumn?” Hunk asked.

Keith nodded in response, and Hunk smiled faintly.

"Me too." Hunk said.

Keith wasn't one to talk, much less begin a conversation. For Hunk, wrapping his mind around a suitable topic of discussion was proving to be difficult, though he usually had a much smoother time making friends. Still, he continued to remind himself to forget about Keith's feelings for the time being, and allow things to progress as naturally as they would have before had he not known about them.

But, just then, Keith's line of vision fell downward, at a deserted football laying on the ground. It was likely discarded and forgotten about by the football team during one of their practices, and had been left there ever since.

"Have you ever considered playing football?" Keith asked, out of the blue.

Hunk almost didn't know how to respond. "What? _Me?_ "

"Who else?"

"No, no definitely not." Hunk replied quickly, "I belong more to the nerd herd."

"I think you'd be pretty good at it." Keith commented, his focus remaining on the ball.

"How do to figure that?"

"Well," Keith said, his gaze returning to Hunk, eyeing his broad shoulders in particular. "You've got a strong build, and a sharp eye."

Hunk felt his body unconsciously sinking in on itself. He didn't give his body type much thought, and certainly never assumed that he was suited to something so physical. "It doesn't mean I'd be sporty though."

Leaning downward, Keith picked up the ball and held it with his good hand, lining his fingers with the lace in the appropriate manner; a motion that was more than second nature to him. It was a habit his body would not soon forget, regardless of his injury. Then, he raised the ball in Hunk's direction, showing off the placement in which his fingers were formed.

"You hold it like this," Keith explained, "Your hand won't cramp like this, and you'll be able to throw it further in a straight line."

Hunk inspected Keith's hand for a moment, noting which fingers rested between laces and which did not. It didn't seem like a complex formation, yet it was completely foreign to him. He had never played much football even as a kid, having found more of an interest in hobbies like mechanics, technology, and of course, music. But something intrigued him about the simplicity of sport and what exactly attracted so many of the boys he knew to it. Keith in particular, who had been more withdrawn from social activities than most, made the exception when it came to football, yet what made him so passionate about the sport wasn't something that Hunk knew. Maybe Keith himself didn't know the reason. Maybe there wasn't even one. But, no matter whether there was or wasn't, Keith looked the happiest while he had a football in his hand.

Hunk took the football into his own hands, and lined his fingers as best as memory could serve him by Keith's demonstration. Keith adjusted them accordingly, picking Hunk's fingers up with his own and sliding them into the correction positions.

"Then you would just throw it forward in a straight line." Keith explained further. As he explained, he demonstrated, placing his hand on top of Hunk's and raising it up. He reached as high as Hunk's arm could extend, standing on the tips of his toes to make up for their difference in height. His feet shivered beneath his weight like a baby deer taking its first few steps, but his balance remained upright. Then, he slowly brought Hunk's hand forward, slowly mimicking the gesture of a toss.

"Once you get to about here, you throw it as hard as you can, don't pull it down with your arm." Keith said, letting go of Hunk's hand and standing properly on his feet once more.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Hunk said.

Keith jogged forward a few feet, stopping only when he reached an appropriate distance to catch a flying ball, "Alright, throw it!"

"Wait," Hunk paused, "Are you sure that you can catch this?"

Raising an eyebrow, Keith countered, "You think I can't?"

Realizing what he'd said, Hunk tightened up, and attempted to clarify, "I mean I don't doubt it but-"

Keith laughed and rolled his eyes, "Just throw the ball, Hunk."

Though he had no confidence in his skill, having just learned the bare basics of how to throw a ball, Hunk could feel some reassurance knowing that Keith had been the one to teach him how to do so. He bent his arm back just as Keith had taught him, reaching it up to its highest point as he began to fling it forward, releasing the ball when his arm had reached the point in which Keith had stopped it before. It began to soar through the sky, on the straight track toward Keith, when suddenly, a third party had intercepted out of nowhere, and caught the ball before it could reach it's final destination.

As the man landed, it was clear even before he had turned around that it was no other than Coach Shirogane. Both Keith and Hunk visibly paled at the sight of the man. He shot them both a quick look, his disapproval in their activity of choice was more than evident.

"And what are the two of you doing?" Shiro asked, his tone as stern and bone-chilling as a strict parent.

"We're just playing catch." Keith grumbled.

Shiro sighed, "You know that you can't do any sports right now, buddy, you might hurt your arm some more."

"Oh, uh," Hunk quickly cut in, "Don't worry, he didn't throw it or anything. He was just showing me how to."

"I'm gonna let it slide this time but be careful, alright?" Shiro asked, handing the ball gently back to Keith. "You don't wanna risk permanent damage."

"I know." Keith grumbled again, refusing to make eye contact with his brother.

Shiro turned around to leave, but stopped in his tracks and added, "By the way, nice toss, Hunk."

"Oh, haha," Hunk laughed awkwardly, "Thanks."

By then, Shiro was gone, having left just as quickly as he had shown up. Keith re-approached Hunk, a roll of his eyes saying all that needed to be said regarding his current mood. He stopped when he was just a few paces in front of the other boy.

"He acts like I'm a toddler, I swear." Keith complained.

Hunk refrained from breaking out into an amused smile, not because he delighted in Keith's annoyance, but because the overbearing ache of a family dynamic was all too familiar to him. "Siblings can be a pain, huh?"

Keith's interest was piqued. "Do you have any?"

"Yeah," Hunk answered, "Little ones though. So I'm the annoying big brother to them."

“That must be fun.”

“It definitely has its perks!”

Onward, Keith and Hunk continued to walk until the eventually found themselves outside of the football field, and closer to the school grounds.

“To be honest,” Keith spoke up, with a certain hesitancy in his voice, “I've never been to a high school dance.”

“Really?”

“I've just never bothered with them,” Keith explained, and the further elaborated, “Social functions aren't really my thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I hope my invite didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.” Keith quickly denied. “That wasn’t what I meant. I think it could be fun.” 

_Then what did he mean?_

But somewhere Hunk already knew what he meant. 

_”Social functions aren’t really my thing- But I could make the exception **for you**.”_

Even the thought of Keith insinuating such a thing was making Hunk feel more flustered than he cared to admit. 

“I've gone to a couple dances before, they aren't so bad.” Hunk decided to keep the conversation going, to distract his mind more than anything. “Sometimes I help DJ, so if you ever feel like getting away from everyone, we could retreat to the sound booth.”

Keith smiled. “Sounds like a solid plan to me.”

Laughing, Hunk replied, “I think we'll have a lot of fun, so don't worry about it.”

“What do you even....” Keith paused, “... _wear_ to a formal dance. It's not like prom, is it?”

Hunk was surprised, but he supposed it was to be expected- Keith really did know much less about dances than the other kids. 

“It's definitely way more low-key than prom. It's still those button up shirts and dress pants type of outfits, but you don't need to wear a full suit or anything crazy.”

“Okay.”

“Vests, and bowties and that kind of stuff work, too.”

“I don't think I'd ever wear a bowtie.”

“Lance wore suspenders to the last formal,” Hunk explained, mimicking the motion of pulling on suspenders with his thumbs, “He looked like one of those little newspaper boys from the ye olden days.” 

Keith began to laugh surprisingly hard at Hunk’s joke, covering his wide-opened mouth with his hand, as he all but doubled-over. Hunk couldn’t help but laugh along with him. 

“Yeah,” Keith replied, once he had finally stopped laughing, “Sounds like something he'd do.”

Hunk’s smile lingered on his face for some time, and he made a conscious effort to soak up the current moment he was having with Keith. The mood was pleasant, softly so, and despite not knowing each other extremely well, he felt that they were getting along quite nicely. Maybe they were more compatible than he could ever think, but it was still too early to tell.

“Hey, uh, Lance and I were gonna go shopping for our formal stuff after school.” Hunk spoke up again, immediately perking Keith’s ears, “Do you wanna come along? To make sure none of us are clashing, y'know.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course. Lance won't mind.” Hunk wasn’t sure of that, but he said it anyway. 

“Sure, yeah,” Keith agreed in a forcefully causal tone. “That sounds good to me.”

A wave of relief washed over Hunk, and beneath it, he smiled. He would have more time to get to know Keith, time that wasn’t limited or had any restraints, and best of all, he’d have Lance there as the perfect buffer, since he was already friends with both parties involved. He could also help stop Hunk if he ever crossed the line toward leading Keith on unintentionally. It was almost too perfect. His only hope was that Lance wouldn’t become annoyed with him for inviting Keith without any warning.

The school bell rang then.

“I guess we should get to class.” Keith said. He almost sounded disappointed. 

“Oh, well, hey our classes are in the same direction. Why dont we walk together?” Hunk suggested, and then he added, “I can carry your books for you.”

Keith stared up at him for a moment, his eyes blinking several times, the threat of a blush lingering against his cheeks.

“Sure.” 

They returned to the inside of the school and made their way through the busy hustle and bustle in the hallways. Keith’s locker wasn’t a far walk, so they made it there fairly quickly. Hunk immediately scooped Keith’s textbooks and binders into his arms, and held onto them tightly as the two made their way down the hall. There were a lot of eyes on them, no surprise, but Hunk had become better at ignoring the uncomfortable attention. For the most part. 

As the two rounded the corner, they had briefly crossed paths with coach Shirogane, and the third year history teacher, Mr. W. Shiro jokingly whistled at the sight of the two boys, who seemed to be so comfortable in each other’s presence already, but he was quickly met with a jab to the ribs by Mr. W. Keith had also grumbled something beneath his breath, but Hunk wasn’t able to distinguish the words. He imagined that it was probably for the best that he didn’t know.

“Sorry about him.” Keith said, as he came to a stop. They had arrived to his next class at that point, and so, it was time to part ways.

“Nah, siblings, I get it.”

“Thanks for carrying my stuff.” 

Keith carefully collected his books from Hunk, his grip tightly cautious to avoid dropping them and making an embarrassing mess. 

“No problem. Let me know if you need a hand with anything else. I'm just a text away.” Hunk replied

Keith smiled and nodded, “Thanks. I’ll see you after school.”

Hunk smiled back. “See ya then!”

* * *

**hunk:** Hey dude! Just a heads up, I invited Keith tonight. Sorry for not asking first. I hope that's alright... OTL  
**lance:** yeah thats fien  
**lance:** fine*  
**lance:** how did hanging go anywaaay  
**lance:** any sparks??? ;0  
**hunk:** Haha, it was fun. We just talked.  
**lance:** well yeah  
**lance:** I didn't think youd be giving him a handy in the middle of the field or sumn  
**hunk:** oh my god.  
**lance:** what??? lmao  
**hunk:** ,,,anyway thanks for being okay with it  
**lance:** obvi I'm rooting for this to work out  
**lance:** and I dont want you to embarrass yourself  
**hunk:** lol  
**hunk:** yeah thanks I appreciate it  
**lance:** mr. w is getting sus now so im gunna stop txting. see yall bitches tonight  
**hunk:** see ya! :P

* * *

Class passed by slowly. Hunk was comforted by a lessened sense of awkwardness after his text messages with Lance, and he was put at ease knowing that he was on board, willing to be the perfect middle man for the night. 

After school finally came to an end, the three met outside in the student parking lot, and then Lance drove them off to the local mall. In the grand scheme of things, it was not a large mall by any means, but it served it’s purpose for quick shops, and Lance knew it well enough to know where to get good deals and how to find exactly what he was looking for. Lord knew that Hunk and Keith needed all the help that they could get. 

First, they shopped for Hunk. There was only one shop that carried his size and it was more on the pricey side, which came as no surprise to him. The fashion world was shallow, so he tended to not care about clothing much. Formal events were an exception, of course. He didn’t splurge often so he didn’t feel bad when he finally did. 

Lucky for himself, Hunk wasn’t picky, so as soon as Lance pulled up a top and bottom that he thought would suit him, Hunk agreed almost instantly, tried them on, and was content with the result. For lack of better terms, he was easy.

Then, Lance shopped for his own outfit, which he treated with all the caution of a high-risk science experiment. He liked trying new things, and each time added a bit more ‘razzle-dazzle’ than the last, as he liked to say. 

Suspenders had been a bust the last time, and he wasn’t quite feeling like taking a risk as big as a hat. He browsed through each rack and hanger with thoughtful hums, until he eventually came across a few articles he liked. 

He presented them all in the form of a mini fashion show, acting as if his friends were guest judges to his performance. But in the end, Lance valued Lance’s opinion most of all, and concluded that his first choice had in fact been his favourite. His risk this year: glitter. With glimmering shoes and a tie to match, he was sure that his new look would stand out in the crowd. Keith and Hunk couldn’t deny that. 

Lastly, it became Keith’s turn to shop, but as he had never participated in a formal event before, he wasn’t sure where to turn first. 

“Warm colours will look good with your skin tone,” was Lance’s suggestion.

Keith wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but he went along with it anyway, trying on any outfits that the two boys threw his way. 

Lance’s recommendations were often a bit much for Keith’s taste, and Hunk’s bordered on not enough. 

Keith’s taste leaned more towards 1980s punk rock, but he didn’t want to go full glam for a school dance. The other two attempted to work around his taste to find a nice middle ground that would both look nice, and be something that he actually felt comfortable wearing. 

Eventually, they settled on a deep red button-down top, and a pair of black dress pants. They were more on the simple side, but as Lance suggested, they could easily jazz up the look with add-ons and accessories, so he sent Hunk off in search of some. 

“So,” Lance began to speak, once he and Keith were alone. “How has hanging out with him been going?”

“It’s been a lot of fun,” Keith answered simply.

“Yeah? That's good. I just hope, y'know, you aren't getting your hopes up or something.” 

“I’m not.” 

“He's just kind of... indecisive.”

“I know, Lance. I get it.”

“I'm not trying to be negative or anything. Just a heads up.”

“I don't expect him to like me back.”

Against his better judgment, Lance asked his friend, “Why did you agree to go to the dance with him? If you think you have no chance then doesn’t that seem kind of masochistic?”

Keith didn’t reply that time.

After a cloud of awkward silence, Hunk had returned to bring some normalcy back to the atmosphere. In his hands, he held a cropped black vest still resting on its hanger.

“Okay, man, that’s kind of pushing it, between the mullet and this,” Lance said, pointing to the vest, “Your date is going to be out there looking like some Uncle Jesse wannabe.”

“Huh?” Hunk furrowed his eyebrows, taking a second glance at the vest. He didn’t see the issue with it. “Sorry, man, you know I'm fashion clueless. I thought it looked fine.” 

“Put it back and try again,” Lance grumbled. 

“Fiiiine,” Hunk sighed, but before he could turn around, Keith, who had been quietly eyeing the article of clothing, interjected. 

“Wait, don't go. I like it.”

Lance sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a manner of defeat. “Like a match made in fashion-clueless heaven.”

Holding the vest out behind Keith, Hunk helped him get his casted arm through the hole, and adjusted the clothing where necessary. Then, he took a step back and admired his work.

“See?” Hunk said. “It doesn’t look bad. It actually looks really good.”

“It’s kind of cute, I guess,” Lance replied, not wanting to admit that he was wrong. “The colour contrast is nice.”

“I like it,” Keith said simply. He twisting his body around as he looked at his reflection, admiring the outfit from all angles. 

“Okay, okay, we get it! We have a winner.” Lance said.

“Alright! We did it! A success!” Hunk exclaimed, raising his hands up high. Keith brought his hands up as well, and they clapped the palms of their hands together- save for Keith’s casted wrist, which Hunk oh-so carefully tapped with his hand.

A large grin spanned from ear-to-ear on Keith’s face, radiantly so. Both Lance and Hunk took notice of it- it wasn’t often that Keith smiled so widely, after all. 

“We've all got our looks sorted out for the dance, but it's still pretty early.” Lance said, “You guys wanna get a slushie or something?”

“Yeah, totally,” Hunk agreed, he lowered his hands, and looked to Keith, “If you want to, of course!"

Keith nodded his head, “Sure.”

Keith changed back into his regular clothing, paid for his purchases, and then all three headed in the direction of the food court. Hunk insisted on carrying Keith’s bags for him, something that was quickly becoming an instinctive habit of his, and naturally it was met with some playful teasing from Lance.

* * *

It was Lance who insisted that he pay for the drinks, denying being paid back on the grounds that ‘that’s what friends are for’, and who were Hunk and Keith to deny his generosity?

It seemed to be with wordless agreement that Hunk and Lance (both aware of Keith’s preference for silence) sought out a nice, secluded table at the far ends of the food court, setting their bags down as they took their seats. 

The dully stifled sound of the intercoms had caught the attention of Hunk’s ears, because, though it was difficult to hear it clearly, they were paying one of his mother’s favourite songs. 

George Michael’s ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’, was a song that he had been very familiar with, thanks to his mother’s constant replays of it while he was growing up.

Only Keith seemed to take notice of Hunk’s attention to the music, and he strained his hearing to catch a glimpse of the song as well. 

_“’Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something it won't.”_

Just as the personally relatable lyrics were sung, Keith retracted his attention, his eyes shifting awkwardly away from Hunk. 

Bad timing. Really bad timing. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his spot, and Hunk felt so badly in a way that he never had before. He wished, more than anything, that he could just give Keith an answer right then and there, unable to imagine the agony he must be baring over waiting for what should be such a simple answer.

_I'm sorry, Keith. I really am. Please continue to be patient._

Lance remained fully unobservant of what was going on around him, and by then had already launched into one of his long drawn over-the-top stories of the past. This story, in particular, focused on an incident that had occurred when he and Hunk were kids just in the middle school. 

The gist of the story was that Lance had ‘accidentally’ stolen a bicycle from some older kids (he had conveniently neglected to mention how he had done so, and moved on), and they had come to confront him about it. They held him by the scruff of his neck, their grips much tighter than his own, causing him to quickly burn up with lack of oxygen. He thought it was the end, dramatically so, but was saved by Hunk’s well-timed arrival. Hunk informed the older kids that he had taken the bicycle, and despite being scared to death himself, he had used language so polite and convincing that the bullies had left without so much as leaving a scratch.

“So, y'know, the point of that story is that Hunk is a super great guy, I mean, amazing, really.” Lance finished, after the seemingly endless story had finally reached its conclusion. 

“Yeah,” Keith replied simply, “I gathered that message along the way.”

“I mean, who else could've done that, right?”

Keith raised his eyebrows, almost amusingly, “Are you trying to be a wing man right now? Because I already like him, so... It's kind of redundant.”

Hunk felt himself tense up, but Lance let out a long laugh. 

“Oh, right, right, I'm selling to the wrong guy here.” Lance said, then turning toward Hunk, he began his routine once more. “Hey, did I tell you about the time that Keith, uh- He... Well, he's amazing at football, y'know? He's a great leader.”

“Right...” Hunk mumbled, laughing awkwardly, “I've seen your games, so yeah, I know.”

Keith cut in, “Is that the only selling point you have for me?”

“You don't give me a lot to work with here, dude.” Lance replied simply, and then, to Hunk, his mission continued with determination. “He's cute though, right? He can work it in a cropped vest. That should be a good point in itself. Hey, we're getting somewhere!”

“So, I'm good at football, and I look decent in a vest,” Keith counted the points on his fingers, raising two in the form of a peace sign to represent the two points that had been made. “I'll take away the vest one, since I think it's kind of irrelevant,” he added, lowering his first finger, so that only his middle finger remained. “And I guess that just leaves us with this.”

Lance’s mouth instantly hung wide open, both in offended shock and amusement, “Ruuuude!”

Hunk, on the other hand, had instantly burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh my god! He just made a joke! That was a good one! You should see your face, Lance!”

“Harsh, dude!”

Keith smiled cockily to himself, “You had it coming.”

“Oh come on! You have more selling points than that. It's just hard to think off the top of my head!” Lance continued to groan.

“Use your brain, man. He's more than just a good-looking football player,” Hunk said. “He's smart, too, and he's fun to hang out with. And did you know that he can sing?”

Lance raised his eyebrows, “Ooh, he can, can he? I didn't know that.”

“I can't really,” Keith objected, “he's just being nice.”

But Hunk wasn’t going to let Keith deny his compliment. “No, really, you can. Your voice is like, low and deep but soft at the same time, y'know? Does that make sense?”

By then, Lance was wiggling his eyebrows around so much that it was impossible to ignore. 

“Stooooop!” Hunk pleaded. 

But Lance didn’t stop. Instead, he brought his balled up hand to his mouth, his tongue already pressed against his cheek, as he prepared to form an obscene gesture. Both Hunk and Keith reached forward in identical timing, their hands briefly brushing together as they grabbed onto Lance’s hand and forced it away from his face. They pulled away instantly afterwards. 

“Aww, shucks, you both know me so well.” Lance laughed.

“Your vulgarity being predictable isn't a good thing.” Keith sighed. 

“Ditto to that.” Said Hunk.

“Oh loosen up, I'm just teasing you guys.” Lance insisted.

After checking the time on his phone, Hunk realized more time had passed than expected. “It's getting late now. Should we head out?”

“Yeah,” Lance quickly agreed, “Coach Shiro will have my head if I don't get his precious baby bro home soon.”

Keith hummed quietly beneath his breath, “Now imagine if he knew the things you've been saying to that precious baby brother.”

Despite the words having been meant as a tease, the colour still washed out from Lance’s face without him realizing. “I'm sure he'd, uh, think I was real hilarious.”

Keith shrugged his shoulders, standing from his seat, he tossed his empty slushie cup into the nearest garbage can and simply replied, “I guess we’ll have to find out.” 

“Pssht. You won't tell him.” Lance insisted, but Keith was already walking away. “Hey, you're not gonna tell him, right?”

Lance began to run after Keith, while Hunk tended to the mess left behind on the table. Even in the distance, he could still hear Lance’s voice whining.

“Keith... Buddy? My man? Come on! Please don't tell him!” 

Hunk couldn’t help but laugh to himself. His friends were something else, that was for sure. There was never a dull moment. If only he could capture the moment in a bottle, and hold it in his possession forever. 

But such things were not possible. 

And so, with his bags firmly in the grasps of his hands, Hunk followed after his friends, taking all the time he needed to catch up with them.


End file.
